


roman holiday

by ninash



Series: traveled the universe twice [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Claudia Stilinski's Death, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-14 14:21:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16042232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninash/pseuds/ninash
Summary: “I can’tcontrolit.”





	roman holiday

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by this post; http://localsharkbait.tumblr.com/post/73849477980/foxsculls-i-cant-control-it

Stiles grew up around magic. His mother had it, and so did he. Stiles can still remember the way the plants would curl around his mother's fingers when they would walk through the woods; he even remembers the wolves in the woods. His mother had rushed off one night yelling for his father, about a fire. The family in the woods had been saved thanks to his mother. The Hale family left anyway though, packed up their entire life and moved to New York. 

Stiles remembers when his mother got sick and when the vegetable garden in the backyard had shriveled up and died. The many months she spent in the hospital, the cruel reality of her forgetting about him and her magic. Stiles had only been nine when his mother had huddled him in the corner of her hospital room. She whispered words to him in an unfamiliar language, repeating the phrase over and over again for hours; she sucked in a breath and her eyes had cleared. 

“My Mischief, I need you to do something for me.” Claudia had whispered, as she climbed back into her bed and beckoned for Stiles. The young boys eyes well up, his mother not having called him that in months. 

“Anything, mama.” Stiles had whispered and sat on the edge of her bed by her feet. She takes his hand and presses a kiss to his finger tips. 

“The spell, I need you to use it.” She glances up at her boy, lashes wet and eyes beginning to haze over again. Claudia fights it and the lights in the room flicker. 

Sties eyes scrunch in confusion, not knowing what spell she was talking about. Claudia had just began to teach him about his own magic when she had gotten sick. The world outside turns black and branches scratch at the hospital window. Claudia squeezes his hand tight and coughs. 

“ _Now, mischief_.” Claudia's voice is scratchy and she squeeze his hand harder, hurting her son. 

Stiles starts to repeat the verse she had been chanting earlier. He goes through the words three times and nothing happens. He speaks it once more and and Claudia whispers something under her breath, _niech to się stanie_ , a bright white light shoots out of his mother's mouth and swirls around the room. It bumps into the ceiling and into the walls. The door handles rattle and spider webbing cracks bloom across the windows. 

Stiles is too distracted by the light to see his mother fall back onto the bed, her grip going lax, and her skin losing color. Stiles hops down off the bed, and walks over to where the light has curled itself into an orb and hovers near the small plant in his mother’s room. The closer he gets the smaller the orb gets, the brighter the light. Stiles stretches his hand out towards it, and for some reason he feels it is afraid. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I won’t hurt you.” The small nine year old reassures the light, and small wisps of the white light leak from the ball and towards Stiles. 

The light curls around the fingers of his outstretched hand which makes the boy giggle. The light slowly covers his whole hand, the tresses trail up his arm and across his shoulder. The light starts to fade, seeping under the boys skin and into his chest. There's a blooming warmth that makes Stiles cry, because it feels so much like one of his mom's hugs. That’s when his eyes shoot over to his mom, the soft hum of the flatline machine echoing in his ears. 

“Mom?” Stiles voice cracks and is barely a whisper. He stumbles over to her bed and grabs her hand; it’s cold and there's a gray hue creeping over her skin. 

“Mama!” Stiles yells and hits the red alarm over her bed. He’s openly crying now, shaking her arm begging her to wake up.

Nurses and doctors swarm into the room. One of the male nurses pulls him away from his mom and out of the room. Stiles hears them yelling as the door closes and the nurse sits him down in a chair down the hall. Eventually Mellisa comes out and kneels down in front of Stiles. Apologizing and telling him his mom is gone and that his dad is on his way. 

It wasn’t fair, but Stiles got through it. He shoves down the hum under his skin, the buzz in his bones and the warmth in his chest; he shoves it all down and away. 

That is, until Scott got bit by some random feral alpha. Derek and Laura come back to investigate the mysterious turning of teenagers in their hometown. Things go to hell after it, but Stiles can’t help. He flinches when Deaton calls him a spark, it’s what his mom used to call him. The magic in him flares to life when he creates that mountain ash barrier around the club, but it’s quiet again after that. He uses a little of it to hold Derek up in the pool, and after that his magic always seemed to warm whenever Derek was around. Which so did not work for him, because he was already trying to hide his glaringly obvious crush on the born wolf. Then the rest of the Hales come back, and certain memories started coming back; him playing at a house in the woods with older kids; full moons, and laughter.

“How did you know?” Stiles glares at where Peter has him cornered in the hospital, the twin alphas lurking out in the hall.

“I remember you; small, loud and inquisitive. You ran straight into the den of wolves, and trusted them.” Peter smirks and glances out the glass panel for the twins. A memory bursts behind his eyes, and he cringes and stumbles. Peter is there to catch him with a look of concern. 

“How do you not remember?” Peter whispers, but the merged twins bust into the room and puts an end to the conversation. 

Deaton won’t stop staring at him when they come out of the ice bath, probably for good reason, too. Stiles was under the longest, they still aren't sure how he survived since he was only human. Stiles actually shoves his fist into his mouth to keep from laughing at that. The ice bath must have jump started something in him, because everything came back to him when he was under. Everything he remembers from before his mom dying comes rushing back, the magic, the Hales, all of it. Specifically, him taking his moms magic. Now that he’s older, now that he can look inside himself and find it, he knows that’s what happened that night she died. 

Stiles spends all of summer break deep in books and magic. Just his magic, he knows how to differentiate between his and his mothers. Hers is pure white, while his is more of a soft gold. He learns all about his kind, ‘Sparks’ they called them; the rarest magic users to ever exist. He wants to laugh and cry at the same time. He trains himself and keeps a very, very, far distance from Deaton. He sees the Hales around town and most of them don’t remember the little magic boy that had wormed his way into their lives. But it’s okay, Stiles prefers it that way. 

Until the Nogitsune happens. 

It takes over him faster than Stiles can fight it. It messes with his magic and Stiles can’t do anything but watch from the inside as it uses his body. It starts with the Hales. Them being the only stable source in Beacon it makes sense. It lays a trap in the woods near the Nemeton. They fall for it, and the whole familiar stares at the boy who stands on top the tree stump, black sludge dripping off his fingers and onto the stump; the sludge seeping into the tree and further poisoning it. Peter growls, and the thing laughs. 

“Oh Peter, Peter, Peter! The one who wanted to be alpha. You will never be anything.” Stiles sneers at the wolf, who slinks back and in front of his wife. 

“Who are you?” Talia asks, from where she stands in front of them all. Stiles eyes flicker to Derek's first - who is growing, and Laura is holding him back. Stiles’ sneer grows, realizing what that meant. Then he looks at the alpha. 

“I’ve had many names over the many years.” He tilts his head and Scott, Isaac, Erica, and Boyd tear through the trees, and step up next to the Hale pack. Isaac and Cora are holding Scott back as he screams Stiles’ name. 

“Hmm there's so much to do, so much to do. So much fun to be had.” Stiles laughs and rubs his hands together. 

The nemeton has turned almost completely black when Deaton walks into the clearing, something wrapped in a white cloth cradled in his hands. Stiles’ eyes shoot to the object and he frowns. 

“What’s that, druid?” He sneers and takes a step off the nemeton and towards the pack. 

“I think you know.” Deaton says in an even voice, no emotion conveyed on his face. 

He unwraps the cloth to reveal a weathered skull, still completely intact but showing the effects of time being buried. Stiles hisses, and takes a step back, a wolf-like growl dripping from his lips. The pack watches as Deaton steps coser and pulls a vial out of his pocket, pulling the stopper out and tipping the contents, blood, over and letting it drip onto the crown on the skull. He starts speaking in another language and Stiles-the nogitsune-screams. His from shudders as Deaton continues. It looks like something from a movie when his body almost looks like it glitches, and then Stiles is falling and something else is standing in his place. It’s dressed in a bomber jacket, with thick medical bandages wrapped around its head, sharp metal teeth spiking out. 

The Hale pack fights with the creature, eventually Talia gets a bite to it’s arm, as instructed by Deaton. Derek is cradling Stiles body in his lap, wiping away a red line leaking from his lips. He watches as the cracks form across the nogitsunes body and he crumbles into ash. Deaton catches the fly in a glass jar and seals the lid. Stiles’ eyes flicker gold as he opens them, and Derek has a wide smile on his face. They get him up and back to the clinic for the vet to check him over. He assures everyone that he’s fine, maybe a little sleep deprived, but otherwise fine. Apologizing for desecrating his mother's grave by diggin up her skull for the ritual. 

Derek ends up taking him home, and the sheriff is working a night shift, so the wolf stays. Stiles falls into bed and passes out before Derek can say anything. So the older one perches himself in Stiles computer chair, and pulls a book off the teens desk to read. Two hours later Stiles jolts up in bed, his eyes flying open. They glow liquid gold in the dark, swirling like liquid metal. Derek opens his mouth to speak, but Stiles rolls out of bed and dashes into the bathroom. He trips on the hallway runner and catches himself on the sink, watching his eyes in the mirror. 

He can feel it under his skin, flowing through his veins and his bones. It hurts. He can barely distinguish between his magic and the power he took from his mother, the two twisting together in the spaces between his ribs. Stiles grits his teeth and clenches the sink harder, the ceramic protests under his magic enhanced fingers. He catches Derek’s concerned look in the reflections, the wolf standing just outside the bathroom. Stiles lets out a shaky breath and drops his head. 

“I can’t _control it_.” He breaths and his body starts to tremor from the struggle. 

They thought the nogitsune was the eye of the storm, but this was the real vortex. 

Deaton had said he was concerned with just this; that old of a trickster spirit being in not only just a spark, but a spark who possessed two types of magic. A tornado forms just outside of Beacon when Deaton suggests taking his mothers magic out of him. Derek had growled at the vet when he had smelled Stiles emotions after the suggestion, twinning their fingers together as Stiles breaths. He tells Deaton it won’t work because of how the two types have converged inside him. Olivia, Derek’s aunt and a white witch, considers binding the teens powers all together. That gets a negative reaction from many of the people gathered in the clinic. Stiles eyes flare gold and the lights in the clinic flicker. The wind picking up outside. 

“ _Bad idea witch_.” Stiles voice is overlaid with something almost, feminine, as he growls. His hands curl into the metal bed he was sitting on the the metal creaks. Derek prys his fingers away and calms the boy. 

“It’s okay. We’ll get through this, we’ll figure something out.” Derk whispered into Stiles hair line and presses a kiss to his temple. Rubbing his thumb over the youngers knuckles. 

They don’t, and Stiles causes a huge thunderstorm that lasts for three days in Beacon when a rogue omega had hurt Derek. They realize after that incident that Stiles powers were heavily linked to the weather, most likely because of his mother’s powers. Then winter comes to California, and Stiles was trying out a small spell which caused a massive blizzard that closed down all the roads. Stiles starts considering having his powers bound after that, but Derek talks him out of it. They eventually find the solution with a girl named Marabell, who lived in Arizona. 

She puts Stiles through some type of vision quest, and it helps to calm his magic. He notices that his power and those of his mothers aren't so tightly wound together anymore. Then she gives him a series of magical tattoos, because apparently that’s a thing. Derek sits with him through all of them, taking his pain and making sure Stiles doesn’t look at the needles. He gets a whole sleeve done of a tree and weather patterns, and there's a small triskele carved into the tree, at the teens request. A line of runes and latin down his spine and across the back of his shoulders, and more symbols on the tops of his feet, and a control rune over his hip. 

The drive back to beacon consisted mostly of Stiles sleeping off the dual ache of all the fresh tattoos left behind. Derek tries to wake him when they get back to the Hale house, but Stiles only stirs for a moment to crack open one eye before dropping back off to sleep. Derek carries him into the house and up to his room with ease and settles in behind the teen, drawing out the remaining pain before falling asleep himself. Curled around Stiles so that every part of them is touching. 

Things are so much better after that. Stiles’ magic is calm, and easily controlled by the spark. It’s rarely ever bursting out of control, only when Stiles’ emotions become too much, usually pertaining to anger. Derek knew Stiles had a temper, had seen a hint of it when Stiles had accused Argent about Kate, Derek having been at the hospital. Stiles’ love and fierce protection for his-their pack was incredible. If someone got hurt because of enemy, they most certainly were not walking away without at least twice fold done unto them by the spark. That, and Stiles liked to play with the weather. 

He also spent time in the preserve, learning the ins and the outs of his mother’s magic. Derek usually left him to it, helping Laura or Peter out with stuff. But today was an important day; it was the anniversary of her death. So Derek let Stiles pretend that he was okay, and that it was a normal day. Let his boyfriend kiss him goodbye, and walk into the woods, Derek following at a great distance. Stiles didn’t go to far, probably just far enough that he was out of the wolves hearing range before he dropped to his knees and leaned forward to bow, digging his fingers into the earth, and letting out a long chant. Derek watches from behind a tree as pure white spider webs streak across Stiles’ arms and pour into the dirt. Stretching up in front of him until they form a translucent form of a woman, a woman who has Stiles’ soft brown hair, and honey golden eyes. His mother, Derek realizes with a start. 

“ _Hello, Mischief_.” Claudia’s voice is soft, and causes a breeze to dance through the trees.

She wears a long flowing white dress, her chocolate curls brushed back off her shoulders. Sheet wraps draped across her arms; all very heavenly-looking.

“Mama.” Stiles chokes and stays on his knees in front of her. 

“ _My beautiful boy_.” She hums, and uses her right hand to pull back on the wraps as she leans down and cups Stiles’ cheek. Stiles must feel her hand, because he gasps and a fresh bat of tears starts up.

“ _You have done nothing wrong_.” She runs her fingers through his hair and hums a song under her breath. 

“But I took your magic. I took your magic and you died.” Stiles gasps and chokes on his next breath, looking up at her.

“ _Oh mischief, I was going to die whether you took me magic or not. I was afraid I would lose control and hurt you or your father; I wanted you to always have something of me with you. I wanted to be selfish, and always be there with you._ ” She kneels down and wraps her arms around him, rocking him back and forth until her son calms down. They talk about meaningless things for the next hour. Stiles curled into her side, them leaning against the trunk of a tree. When the sun begins to set, Claudia stands and turns towards him.

“ _Our time is up and I must be going. I am so proud of you, Mieczyslaw._ ” Claudia presses a kiss to his forehead, before her form starts to fade away into white lights. The lights hover for a moment before they drift towards Stiles, who is quietly crying and disappear under his skin. 

Derek lets him be for a moment longer before he walks over to Stiles and sits down next to him. Stiles burrows his head in Derek’s chest, and cries his heart out. Derek doesn’t offer words of comfort, he just rubs his back and lets him cry. Eventually Stiles calms down enough for them to head back to the house. Talia and Kevin have a large dinner ready and things weren’t perfect - they might never be - but for now, things were good.


End file.
